The Dead Diva Sings: Behind The Curtain
by NotDorothy
Summary: Companion to "The Dead Diva Sings." Told from Viviane's POV as she touches down in Shreveport the night before the original begins. See what Viviane thinks of Sookie & what she was up to when Eric wasn't looking. Also flashbacks to early life with Eric.
1. Welcome to Shreveport

**A/N: This is a companion piece for "The Dead Diva Sings" from the original character Viviane's perspective. This has huge spoilers for the other piece, so read it first. But this story has a lot of background for Viviane and her motives. It started as a way to flesh Viviane out as Sookie sees her, but Viviane practically begged for her own marquee. She is the original diva, after all.**

The vampire with the chestnut locks drummed her polished raspberry nails on the armrest of the Anubis Airlines seat.

"John, how long is this flight?" Viviane was anxious to see Eric and his bar. But she was more interested in meeting his pair of blondes. She could feel the connection really kick in the closer she got to Shreveport. "What time is the landing?"

"Less than an hour. We land about midnight." John Quinn, her day man and a weretiger, was typing something into his phone.

"I should've flown myself." Viviane straightened her emerald green, high-waist pencil skirt and checked the wrap of the black top she'd tucked in – nothing hanging out. Good. "Where is that you're spending your days off?"

"Caddo Lake on the Texas side. It's the full moon in two nights."

Viviane glanced out the plane's window. "So it will be. Good thing I won't need you to protect me from anything." She giggled. Each knew she hardly needed protection from anything or anyone.

"A rental is waiting for me at the airfield." John slid his phone in his suit coat.

Viviane grinned. "So are you even going to get off the plane until I'm long gone?"

"Are you calling me a coward?" John raised an eyebrow at the vampire.

She burst into giggles. "Don't worry, John. I'll save you from the big, bad Viking. How mad could he really be at you still? He won; he got the girl. So it's over." It amused her that John was taking Eric's edict so seriously. She knew in reality Eric would rip him limb from limb if it came to it, and she'd help him do it if the cause was Sookie Stackhouse.

John wasn't smiling. "I am not afraid of him. But I do not wish to battle him at this time."

Viviane smirked knowingly. "What did you think of the Vogue writer? She's no Carrie Bradshaw. Did you see her shoes?" She was rather unimpressed with the journalist the fashion magazine sent to follow her around Las Vegas and on her trip to New Orleans.

"I was not looking at her shoes. I was watching Victor and carrying your purse."

She couldn't help the smirk. His hands were often bigger than her evening bags, but he was useful. John was smart and could be plenty devious with her as she circumvented Felipe's and Victor's bullshit. Plus, her compact size always made her a target – not that she couldn't handle it – and a large, strong man was a delicious deterrent.

Viviane always had called him John from the time he was teenager and the unfortunate incident with his mother. She'd been working in the state where it'd happened, but she hadn't sworn fealty to anyone, so she'd been left unable to help him.

It was a shame what his life had become. He'd once been young and peaceful. His anger problems got him in the current mess with vampires as they always did.

She liked him enough to take him on when she needed a replacement day man after her day woman Cynthia went on extended maternity leave to have her two-bite taco human. Admittedly, the baby was rather adorable, and Viviane enjoyed holding her and cooing at her.

Viviane liked babies enough – they can't hurt anyone, their skin is very soft, and in the past holding one helped her pass for human. She'd even glamoured permanent homes for a few orphans when she liked one.

John went back to the Times-Picayune he'd bought at the airport. For once, he was reading the news section instead of sports.

Viviane slipped into downtime until the plane began its descent. Eric was waiting for her at the airfield – she could feel him.

Tapping her high-heel-clad foot impatiently, Viviane wanted to fly through the plane's door when the open was wide enough, but she hadn't been a child in 1,100 years, so she waited.

Eric leaned against his red Corvette. She couldn't figure out owning a car with only two seats that ate so much gas – it was just impractical. But he liked it and spoke of it as if it was a product of his loins, and she didn't have to deal with it on a daily basis. She hated to admit it, but it was sort of sleek and sexy, like Eric.

She forced herself walk at a human pace. Viviane wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms, but the last thing she needed was John knowing how close she really was to Eric.

John finally caught up with the two bags of personal effects. Eric growled under his breath.

"Northman."

"Tiger."

Both stood there in a staring contest – John holding her bags, and Eric just looking at John. Viviane sighed and started to grab her bags and take them to the trunk.

"Men. I guess chivalry really is finally dead." She'd wrested one bag from John when Eric broke his gaze.

"Tiger, you are going to let a woman handle her bags?" He shook his head while taking both bags and placing them carefully into his small trunk.

Viviane couldn't hide her giggle at Eric for having to best John. "John, just drop my trunk off at the club. Do you know where it is?"

John nodded and took off for his bags and rental car.

"He has 30 minutes to get out of my area," Eric growled.

"Eric, he is leaving. I can't handle training another day man, and John is surprisingly good at it." Viviane glanced around to see whether John remained in sight; he wasn't. She promptly threw her arms around Eric's waist. "Oh Eric, I have missed you."


	2. A Throne Issue

Viviane basked in the feel of her maker while she waited for his slow response. He'd spent centuries trying to staunch her emotions and displays of affection. She argued that it made her pass for human. They agreed to drop it in 1766.

"As have I." Eric hugged her back and pressed a kiss into the top of her head. "Three decades really is too long with just phone calls and letters. I wish you had come sooner."

"Hey, I'm not the only one who can travel. Or are sheriffs not allowed vacations?" She leaned back and looked way up at him – he was at least a foot taller, even in her three-inch heels.

"Fair enough."

"I'd better let go before I get caught." Viviane took a step back and made for the passenger side. Eric beat her. "I see you're working hard on this manners thing again. Must be the South. That's good."

"When did I not use my manners?" He leaned over, staring at her as she put on her seatbelt. "What are you doing?"

"Being safety conscious." She clicked it. "I do remember you not holding doors open or helping with chairs, and you certainly didn't help with my coat."

"First, Viv, it was the 1970s. Women became all liberated and yelled at me for opening doors for them. So I stopped. That's what the human men did. Second, you do not need to wear a coat." He was behind the wheel in a blink, turning the car on. "You are not afraid of my driving, are you?"

"No. However, I do know how you drive. And I'd be just fine not flying out a windshield ever again." She flipped her bag open and pulled out a Stila lip gloss. "And this woman right here is liberated as hell, and I will never get upset at a man for holding the door or acting like a gentleman."

Eric smirked. "But you are just old-fashioned."

She slapped his arm. "Pot, meet kettle."

"Do you want to do the sound check tonight?"

"It would be easier, no?" He nodded. "Then Fangtasia it is. I do want to explore it when there aren't throngs of people inside." She busied herself turning her phone on.

"So you can compliment me and my taste?" Eric looked at her when he stopped for light.

"Maybe, but it's more likely I'll tease you."

"Viv, as your –"

She cut him off. "You know better than to pull that with me." The dynamic of their relationship hinged on his inability to control her like other makers. They blamed her being a fairy for it. The theory held true when another fairy was turned in 1227.

"As your friend, it would be nice if you did not poke fun of my establishment." He looked serious.

"What? It's not like I'm going to walk in and find your throne or something." Eric's jaw tightened, and he swallowed. Viviane couldn't contain the laughter. "What? Really? Next, you'll tell me you wear a crown and a robe and knight people with your broadsword."

He looked like he was hurt. "I do neither."

"Can I sit in it?"

He looked at her as he made a turn. "If it is so amusing for you, why would you want to do that?"

"Why not? You only live once, right?" The vampires both laughed as Eric pulled up behind his club and parked in his spot. "What? I don't get the front entrance experience?" She was out of the car, hands on her hips, as she asked.

Eric chuckled, and before she could blink, they were in the front parking lot. "Happy?"

"Yes." Viviane followed Eric's sure stride through the entrance, past a line of customers and the handsome Italian vamp manning the door, all of whom she smiled at while she was sure Eric ignored them.

The gray walls and vampire cliché art made her laugh. The music wasn't really her style, but it fit the club atmosphere. Red dominated the décor. All in all, it was so Eric gone cliché. But she wanted to see this throne.

She saw it up on a stage, currently occupied by a dark-haired vamp she'd known nearly as long as she'd known Eric – Thalia. Thalia saw Eric and stood up, making her way over.

"Sheriff, she did not leave. She's in your office doing something." Thalia shrugged.

Eric growled a bit. "Wait here."

Thalia smiled a tiny smile at Viviane as they exchanged a look. "You look happy."

"I believe I am. Great job, great house, great human. Existence is good." Viviane hugged the unresponsive vampire – she knew how Thalia was, and getting a smile was pushing her limits. "Eric is a good sheriff, I hope."

Thalia nodded. The old vampires laughed when they heard Eric growl over the throbbing music.

"Maybe we should check on him. Lead the way, Thalia."

Viviane follow Thalia as she weaved through the fangbangers fascinated with her arrival and hit the hallway. Eric was in his office, looming over Pam who was holding one of Viviane's purple stage dresses. Pam was as lovely as she remembered and ironically also wearing a corset this time around.

"What do you think you are doing? I told you to go home, Pamela." Viviane could feel Eric's irritation.

"I believe she's fingering my costumes." Viviane smiled from the doorway. Pam's blonde head jerked around, meeting Viviane's gray gaze.

"How can you be surprised if you won't leave? Pamela, go home. That's a command." Eric crossed his arms and glared at his child.

Pam shrugged, hung the dress back in the trunk and clicked her way out, but not without comment.

"I am very good with my fingers." Pam smiled flirtatiously as she passed Viviane. Viviane could only laugh.

"She is going to be very amusing for me." Viviane took a step into Eric's office.

"Just wait until Sookie gets here." Thalia actually grinned.

"Thalia, on the floor. Now."

Thalia nodded and was off.

"Is Sookie expected tonight?" Viviane picked up the Tabasco sauce on his desk, wondering what that was for.

"No. She is working for the shifter. She insists on continuing her job." Eric pinched the bridge of his nose as we watched her wander the small room.

"Maybe if you made an honest woman of her, she'd think differently." Viviane perched on his desk after she'd examined all the walls and shelves.

"We are married."

"Yes, to us, you silly man. But you need to put a ring on it. Get her the big white dress and a party with all of her friends. Maybe a church. I could provide entertainment." She smiled up at him, amused.

Eric closed the door. "You think that would help?"

"That is the moral standard of Southern women - grow up, meet a man, get married, have his babies, be old on a porch together. You're Eric Northman, you can handle the marriage part." She held an arm out to him.

He came over, leaned against the desk next to her and put an arm around her. Her arms encircled his waist. "I really do not understand why she can't accept the marriage as it is."

"Eric, seriously? You are a brilliant political manipulator. Hell, that's how you married her in the first place. But you are failing at understanding how human values work. What does Pam say?"

"That I need to read more Dear Abby."

Viviane giggled as she hugged Eric. "That's not a bad idea." She loved the columnist and had it delivered to her e-mail daily.

"I should have known you would agree with her."

"The writer has valuable advice. Is that why you wouldn't let her hang out with me tonight?"

"She insisted she wanted surprises for this party. You can't be a surprise if she already talks your ear off about shoes." Eric sighed. Viviane hadn't seen him sigh so deep since 1096 when she'd barely been vampire a decade. She'd likely been the cause that time.

"I think she wants to do more than talk."

Eric groaned. "You wouldn't."

"No, I believe the humans might think it incestuous. And you should know that I am typically a lover of men. Plus I have Charlie." Viviane smiled, thinking about her boyfriend. Three years was the longest time she'd spent involved with one being aside from Eric. Her children really hadn't been sexual relationships – they were worthy beings and still proving themselves quite useful every day.

"And when will I meet the illustrious Charles Devonshire?"

"When you visit me." She poked him in the ribs.

A knock interrupted their chat. Viviane flashed to her trunk and began arranging the contents as Eric said, "Enter."

"Viviane!" Bubba practically swept her into the air, but she let him.

"Hun, the sheriff didn't tell me you'd be here tonight." She wrapped her arms around this king of music. "How is it going in Louisiana?"

"Better now that you're here." He gave her that sexy, sly grin he was known for having. Bubba was more clearly in control of his old self around Viviane. It was the marvel of the vampire world. If she didn't live in Las Vegas, she thought. No, she mustn't think of that now, she told herself.

"Are you flirting with me? You should know I have a boyfriend." She brushed a lock of the dark hair from his forehead.

Eric cleared his throat. "Bubba, did you have reason for coming to Fangtasia?"

"Yes, Eric, Pam wanted me to tell you she ordered the cake."

"Why did she send you? What does she have you roped into?" Eric pinched his nose again. Viviane tried not to smile at the young one's antics.

"Sheriff, she just tells me to tell you." He returned his focus to Viviane. "Are you singing tonight?"

She shook her head. "Just a sound check tonight. Are you coming to Pam's party?"

"No, I've got something in Monroe." That seemed ominous to her, especially considering his normal state of being. She'd always adored him – before and after. Viviane often wished she could get her hands on that morgue attendant for ruining this artist. Admittedly, the man had done himself in with his choices over the years, but now he was little more than just a vampire flunky most nights.

Viviane pouted a perfectly painted lip. "Then the next night or so. You'll come?"

"Only if you're singing with me, darling." He gave her that trademark smile.

"I'd never miss the opportunity." She kissed his cheek, forcing a tear back when she remembered how warm he'd been more than four decades ago the first time she'd done it. Viviane almost rued the emotional being she'd always been. Sure, she could be hard as hell and one badass fighter, but deep down, she was a lover and a nurturer.

"Bubba, is that all?" Eric obviously wanted him to leave.

"Yes, sheriff."

"Then off you go."

"Guess I'm leaving the building." Bubba winked and squeezed Viviane once more before disappearing.

"Eric, what do you have him doing in Monroe?" she asked as she closed the office door again.

"Nothing. But he gets attached to one place or the other sometimes and keeps going there a many nights in a row. I don't worry about it. Nothing really goes wrong except missing cats and he comes if I call."

Both shuddered at the thought.

Eric's phone rang. "Hello lover." It was Sookie. Viviane settled into the couch after Eric motioned to it.

Viviane listened intently to the Southern woman's sweet voice as she told Eric about something stupid her brother did at the bar where she worked. She had to stifle laughter as she realized just how deep Eric had fallen for this woman that he listened to this drivel. It was so unlike the modern Eric.

Viviane would never accuse him of going soft, but he had just a bit. He hadn't been remotely like this since he first tried to impress her more than 1,000 years ago on that pier. He'd still been close to his human life then, so he hadn't hardened to everything as he had in recent centuries. It pleased her to see him happy.

The music abruptly cut off, meaning the club had closed. Once Viviane heard all the fangbangers leave, she left the confines of Eric's office to deal with the sound check and explore Fangtasia. Her high heels were the only sound in the hallway as she peeked into the employee room and then entered the club area.

The lights were now up and she could see the gray walls and vinyl booths. Nothing was ripped or in any state of disrepair. It was clean beneath the leftovers of a night of customers. Viviane easily found Eric's booth - it had a clear view of the floor and smelled distinctly of him more than any other area on the floor.

Her cell phone vibrated against her hip. It was Charlie. She tried not to smile too big.

"Hey there."

"Hey yourself. How was your flight?"

"You know, boring. I could've gotten here faster on my own, but then my hair wouldn't be as cute for my Shreveport debut."

She listened to his laugh. She loved it. And him, although she hadn't quite said it aloud to him.

"You know, Viv, you could get a scarf or something. You singing tonight? What time is it there?"

"About 1. Just a sound check. Then I can just come on out tomorrow. Pam appears to be sassier than I suspected." That was an understatement based on Eric's tales. Pam was as spoiled as they come. "I should probably get started on that so I can have a little relaxation tonight."

"I can pick you up. Just let me know when you'll land." She promised she would and said her goodbyes.

Viviane often wondered how long she had before she had to tell Charlie about Eric. She supposed she should just do it all once, but who would that be easier for - her or Charlie? Viviane figured she'd ask Eric for advice. Surely, he'd told Sookie she was coming. It would be stupid not to do so.


	3. Old Friends

**A/N: When I posted Chapter 2: A Throne-y Issue, it never popped to the top of the list. So check it out if you missed it. It's full of Bubba and Viviane making fun of our favorite Viking.

* * *

**

The vampire who'd been manning the door was dragging cables around and hooking up the sound system as Viviane's musicians were filing in past Thalia's glares. She had no plans to help them, thinking it was a good time to check out this throne of Eric's. She was more than curious to see what he saw when he looked out on his "subjects."

Then she spotted the object of her amusement – the throne. She was more than curious to see what he saw when he looked out on his "subjects."

Viviane alit the stage and plopped down, bouncing her tailbone off a minimally padded cushion over a wooden plank of sorts. She wiggled until she was as comfortable as she was going to get.

Eric emerged from his office after he finished his phone call, smirking when he spotted her. "You don't look very regal."

"How much time do you spend sitting here?" Because her behind already hated it.

"More than I'd like."

"Well, you should put a fucking cushion on it. How do you sit here so uncomfortably all night? You make poor Thalia sit here, and we both know she has minimal natural padding. It's just not right, Eric." She popped up. "At least it's cute."

"Viv, my bar is not cute." He crossed him arms over his chest, so she mirrored him.

"Oh, it so is." She giggled as he grimaced. Eric had never quite gotten over her jovial laughs and open feelings. However, like his hardened mask of coolness, her apparent sunny disposition hid a multitude of schemes.

The dark-haired vamp cleared his throat. "Master, I am done connecting everything; the band needs to move your seating. Then Miss Riga, anytime you are ready."

"Do it. But don't fucking scratch any of it." Eric wore his best sheriff face.

The younger vamp was back and forth quickly until the three pieces disappeared.

"Thank you –?" She waited for him to give his name.

"Stefan."

"Thank you, Stefan." She clicked over to the microphone and tapped it, causing each vampire to wince just a little. "Sorry, I can't resist sometimes. A request, Viking?"

"'Cabaret.' I missed you in that one." Eric sat back in one of the red chairs like he was about to watch an audition and crossed one leg over the other. She had been in that one in Boston for a while in 1970s and again in the 1980s in Sydney for one winter.

"As you wish." She checked with the four musicians who traveled with her when she left Las Vegas - two vampires, an exceptional human and one demon, who played a mean slide guitar. The daywalkers were imperative to smooth touring and had been with her at least five years.

Deke the demon made the introduction she'd rewritten to welcome her to the stage – he made her name fit the song just as well as Sally Bowles. Viviane had enjoyed modernizing the Broadway classic's sound for her new stage show. When she finished, Eric and the rest of the vampires and humans on duty stopped cleaning up to clap.

Stefan approached as she hopped from the stage.

"Miss Riga, enchanting. What lighting were you wanting? Was the sound all right?" He had a clipboard with a list she assumed related to her show and all things Operation Party Pam related.

"Manny can tell you." Viviane indicated the vampire who looked like he belonged on a boogie board and who was twirling his drumsticks. He had been turned in the 1960s when Les went through his ocean phase. And yet he remained a Midwesterner. Children. "The sound seemed fine. Did you think it was balanced?" He nodded and walked away for the details he sought. "I'm done, Eric. Show me Shreveport?"

"Sure, come on." He stood and strode out the back. She followed him through the bowels of his bar and out to his Corvette. They repeated the earlier car procedure, Eric still mystified by her seatbelt usage.

"So where are you taking me?" She twisted to take in the profile at which she'd spent so much of her 11 centuries staring.

"I'm considering purchasing a restaurant. I'd like your opinion."

"Have you taken Sookie?"

"No."

"Why not? Do you not want her opinion?" The woman was a barmaid, she'd likely know a thing or two about the modern restaurateur business.

"I wish to take her for a special occasion."

"Like a marriage proposal?" She smirked at him.

"Viviane." He said it the way he'd said Pamela earlier, although it would never work on her the way it did on his younger child.

"Eric, it is a valid solution to your angst and her reticence. She doesn't feel married because she has a different standard of commitment. Giving her a ring and asking her to marry you in a traditional way would be reassuring for her, I suspect." Viviane squeezed his forearm as he shifted gears, flying through the Shreveport night. "So what did you buy Pam for her birthday?"

"Nothing."

"You still have to give her a gift, a trinket of some sort." She smiled. "You don't know how birthdays work, do you?"

"I am familiar with the concept. However, I already arranged this party for her and paid for it. What else must I do?" he spat.

"I thought you were excited to give her a party. What happened to our Happy Eric?" She patted his cheek before looking out the window as they pulled into a valet station.

"He's been stifled by adding one more demanding woman to his life," he growled.

"Oh, we both know you're completely smitten with Sookie Stackhouse and you like it." She giggled, knowing full well he meant her, not his wife. The valet opened her door, grinning like an idiot as he watched her unfold from the car. Teenagers.

Viviane stood on the curb, waiting as Eric threatened the child about damaging his precious baby. Someday in their future, a cruel joke involving his car would have to be played. Perhaps she could bond with Pam and Sookie over it.

"What are you smiling about now?" Eric was grumpy. Joy.

"Just a passing fancy. Shall we?" She stuck her arm out for him to take; he did out of habit, leading her into the establishment the same way they'd done hundreds of times over.

Viviane examined the deep blues and reds of the décor as they climbed the steps. The tables were intimate, spaced nicely so you could share a special moment somewhat alone. The windows overlooked the river. She liked it. This felt like the real Eric, unlike that tourist trap that made him rich that only bore the breath of an amusement he held for a few days. Eric held her chair before taking his. Everything about this was practiced and perfect despite not having been out together in decades.

"So far, it's good. I always like a water view." She watched him relax a bit as the headwaiter rushed over – he was a vampire.

"Sheriff, welcome. What may I get for you and your beautiful date?" His hair grayed at the temples, and he had an English accent.

Eric growled a bit before she piped up. "Oh, my human is back home. I'm just in town for a gig. Eric's wife is elsewhere this evening." She wore her practiced smile on this unknown vampire who apparently couldn't tell she was like him.

"My apologies, Sheriff." He bowed to Eric. She hid a smirk.

Eric was in sheriff mode all right. "Royalty. That is all, Nigel."

"Nigel, I'd like mine in a daiquiri glass with a straw – one of those cute little cocktail ones."

"Yes, Madame. Anything you wish." Nigel bowed to Viviane and then Eric again before gliding off.

"A straw, really?"

She shrugged. "I'm in a phase."

"You are always in a phase."

"So? You've liked enough of them, especially when I went through the wig making one in the 16th century." Eric raised his hands in peace. He had enjoying not having to cut and style his hair every night when he rose and the options of quick disguise she afforded him with the skill. "So if you aren't going to propose here, just what would the special occasion be?"

"A job offer. She could manage it and move into my home. She refuses to leave her job because she says it helps her shields and she wants to earn her own money. This is the solution." He looked pleased with himself.

"Sounds reasonable. You know, I look forward to seeing Sookie, this woman who stole you from tedium."

Viviane couldn't say meet Sookie; that had happened 20 years ago.

In a millennium, she had only one true secret from Eric: her lovely friend Adele Stackhouse.


	4. Back on the Farm

Viviane and Adele's friendship had sprouted as a result of Niall Brigant calling in the nearly 1,000-year-old favor she owed him.

Niall had helped her escape her arranged-marriage fate in Faery on the condition of a favor to be called in at some future date.

The favor was watching over the Stackhouses once Fintan had introduced himself to the bloodline. Niall had promised to stay out of it, but he never promised his son that he wouldn't find someone else to check in.

It started out as just stopping by and peeking in at two children and getting back into Texas before she ran into Eric, but soon Viviane had become too interested and got caught walking across the property by Adele early one evening. She'd gone to ground in the cemetery as much as she hated it and was covered in dirt. It was the '60s, so Adele assumed she was a drifter traveling through and insisted on providing a hot bath and a hot meal.

The women bonded that evening – Adele Stackhouse was a magnificent woman. Adele was kind, insightful and accepting. After she showered in the old farmhouse, she sat and choked down a home-cooked meal for the first time in a century. Viviane had become the master of artful mincing of food and the mistress of forcing food down over her centuries, and she knew that the second talent would be called in for this Southern woman's hospitality.

The food wasn't as bad as she remembered it being, and soon hours had passed with Viviane watching Adele wrangle her children into bed while not missing a beat in her hostess duties. Viviane knew the next step would be Adele insisting she stay, so she had to glamour Adele and her husband into thinking she'd been driven to the bus station with a promise to write. And write she did. The women had written every week for years. Sometimes, Viviane would stop in late for coffee, which was much easier to hide not consuming, on the premise of passing through back to her family's home in Texas from somewhere out East.

She'd been living part time in New Mexico since Darrel had taken the state in 1948, so she could get to Bon Temps with an hour or so flying. And she was always welcome in Texas if she stayed too long. Her child Stan was sheriff in Area 9, and the monarch at the time had been trying to have sex with her since the battle at the Alamo. The rest of her time was spent doing some Broadway shows in New York and a few other places. Eric came up to see her on opening night when he could. If he'd been unable to get away, he'd send a few dozen purple flowers – her favorite color.

The biggest risk was always exposure by Eric. Over time, she'd learned to block the blood tie so effectively, she could be standing in the same room with barely a buzz from him.

Viviane hated hiding this from him. But this promise, this favor, was older than her tie to him.

And how the hell was Viviane suppose to know Adele's granddaughter would grow up to be an industrious telepath and marry her maker?

The only psychic she'd ever known Eric drained in 1426 because she told him something he didn't like. She never did find out what it was.

Nigel returning with the blood drew her from her thoughts. They both thanked him before Eric picked up on her train of thought.

"What has you so distant? You feel guilty." Eric studied her.

"Oh just wishing I had gotten out here sooner." She wished desperately to do over the times when she'd been so focused on herself and she'd failed her promise to Niall.

"It is not a throne."

"How long have you been thinking about that?"

"It is not. It is a chair. I have display myself to them; it is good for profits. So I have a chair. And I cannot sit in the same chairs the fangbangers sit in."

Viviane managed a smile at him clawing his way out of this hole. "Oh no, you have a special chair, Viking. Call it what it is – a modern-day throne."

"When did you become Pam? She is the one who began calling it that." Eric drew deeply from his glass.

"Perhaps the question is when did she become me? Perhaps it has something to do with you and the company you choose to keep." Oh yes, she always had known she would love Pam.

Eric's phone rang. He grimaced. "I have to take this. It's Felipe." He answered it as he zipped out the dining room, leaving Viviane to return to her lamentations.

Adele was a smart woman – she finally mentioned Viviane's air of eternal youth in the 1970s. When Viviane revealed the truth of it to her, she had laughed and asked to see the fangs. She had never told a human she did not subsequently glamour or drain, but Adele was worthy of trust. Viviane had confided a lot in this woman – about the reason why she had come in the first place, about Eric without mentioning his name, about her life on the stage. The young Mrs. Stackhouse became her best friend.

As the children aged and Viviane didn't, she couldn't really come for dinner anymore, so Adele would meet her in an all-night diner on the highway to Monroe. They spoke on the phone weekly, and Viviane sent gifts on all the special occasions, including baby gifts when Hadley, Jason and Sookie were born.

In the 1980s, Viviane moved to California to join Idris' retinue, so she had less and less time to go to Bon Temps. The women still spoke every week or so. Adele always loved to hear the stories about the rock 'n' roll life she was living, and Viviane loved to hear about the grandchildren Adele was busy feeding and spoiling.

When Sookie's parents died, Viviane was in Bon Temps the next night consoling Adele as much as she could. Viviane had never given birth and her vampire children all lived, but she almost felt the pain her friend was experiencing.

That was the first time she'd met the beautiful little telepath. She'd come into the living room in her fuzzy pink pajamas, tiny with her blonde tresses smashed from fitful sleep, clutching a stuffed swine the same shade as the pajamas.

Viviane often thanked whatever luck she had that Sookie had been sobbing too hard to realize her vampire brain was unreadable. Of course, at the time, Viviane had no way of knowing Sookie couldn't read vampires or that she couldn't be glamoured.

A year or so earlier, Adele had told Viviane she thought Sookie had a sixth sense – that she was reading minds. She'd asked whether Viviane knew anything to help or whether it might be from the fae lineage. She checked around for her friend but came up empty. Telepaths were rare.

Viviane doubted it was the fae blood – Stan's telepath was not fae, she would've tasted it the night of the Texas takeover when she took a bullet for him and Barry allowed her a drink to heal as a thank you.

It was that night at Adele's when she realized she had to glamour the memories from her friend.

When she left the Stackhouse home that night, Viviane cried for the first time in 150 years for the loss she felt ripping Adele from her routine. It was for the best, she reasoned. She couldn't keep coming and going and not get caught by Eric and modern technology. And she certainly couldn't have a 7-year-old telepath plucking the image of Viviane the vampire from her grandmother's head. Eventually, she would lose this dear friend to her old age, so it would be better to pull back now.

She left the first memories Adele had of her intact, the ones before Viviane had told her the truth. She made Adele think that each time she'd seen her, Viviane looked a little older, that she even had a bit of gray hair now when she wasn't dying it and that Viviane didn't call as often or write as often because she was busy raising her own son. The last bit not entirely false – Idris was as much a child as she'd ever have.

Viviane had known that would be the last time she'd be in the old farmhouse, the last time this home would welcome her like none other ever had, the last time she'd be able to provide Adele a shoulder to cry on. So Viviane had added a bit to the glamour to ease Adele's grief and help her be strong for the young grandchildren that were now hers to raise.

In her final act, she glamoured Adele's husband into thinking he finished paying the mortgage before she woke the banker in charge of the loan and glamoured him into accepting the check and filing the paperwork.

As Viviane took flight, it was all she could do not to lose it before she made it to Texas. That night, she slept next to Stan, her child unsure why she was upset. She stayed in Waco with Stan a few days. She hadn't really liked the city, but it was where Stan was taking night classes for a business degree.

Adele and Viviane spent the next 15 years swapping stories and recipes – for Viviane, this task required her day man to test cook the recipes before she sent them. Adele often sent photos of her life. The invention of Photoshop was brilliant. It allowed Viviane to alter images of herself and place fake people into the images so she could swap these trinkets of memory with Adele.

With the Great Reveal, Viviane burned most of the photographs Adele had sent her containing her grandchildren. Discovery of these items by the wrong party could put Sookie in danger were her talent discovered. Viviane wasn't the one who ended up outing her – it was Hadley, one of the grandchildren Viviane never met.

Viviane considered reinserting herself properly into the Stackhouse residence. But her focus on finding a venue to create the show she now could have distracted her from Adele's life for a time, and it turned out to be the most crucial time of her life. Sookie began dating the nerd William Compton during that time and met Eric (although Viviane hadn't known that), and Adele was murdered for Sookie's association with vampires.

In more than 1,000 years, it was her greatest regret. Viviane laid in bed, not feeding for a week, inconsolable. When Niall visited her for the first time in a decade, he'd stretched out and just held her for awhile. In retrospect, Viviane had probably told the fairy prince too much about the young telepath and had plopped the girl right into the middle of another supernatural disagreement on an ever-increasing list in her life. But he was the first man she'd ever trusted, and it was damn hard habit to break.

If she was honest, she had ignored Eric's recent invitations to sing at his club or just to visit him, even during his greatest dilemma after the amnesia. She was afraid of what Louisiana would feel like with Adele gone. Viviane knew she should honor her friend's grave with flowers, but Viviane feared she could not hold herself together for the task. And to be honest, seeing the farmhouse without Adele just wouldn't be the same.

During the time of her grief, she made the miscalculation of contracting with Felipe de Castro, king of Nevada. It wasn't Felipe that was bad – it was that asshole Victor. It was only a two-year contract, renewable if both parties continued to enjoy the partnership. She had just renewed the contract for another two years, and a show of her very own was set to debut in two weeks. Viviane had worked too hard to start over again, and Felipe minus the snake Victor was easy enough to manipulate.

She didn't pledge loyalty – it was a business arrangement. She pledged fealty to no state. She wasn't a politician; she'd never been involved in a takeover – well, so it seemed; and her money-making abilities allowed her freedom. It was the first time she'd lived away from a state one of her children ran since she had come to the United States; it was a calculated risk.

In the next two years, the only secret she ever kept from Eric spun into a horrible sin of omission clouding every interaction with him. Sookie became the target of Eric's focus after he'd lost his memory and spent that time with her, and before Viviane knew it, Eric was bonded and married to Adele's granddaughter without knowing about Niall and the mess he brought to the table or her own involvement in the Stackhouse family.

Now she wondered whether she could ever tell him.


	5. Just A Taste Of Wrath

**A/N: This is just a bit of a tease of what's coming up. I am doing my NaNoWriMo project this month and vacation, so it's unlikely a real chapter will come out for a few weeks. But I had this ready for an upcoming chapter. So here is a little taste of the darker side.  


* * *

**

Viviane had just about enough of this sweet as pie shit she was putting on for Bill Compton. Viviane was a vampire molded in her maker's attitude, not one like this pansy ass mainstreaming shitbird. She was ready to put a fear like no other into him.

"William, they say you have a lovely old home you are restoring. May I see it?" She smiled demurely at him. "Perhaps I could say hello to Judith."

"Why yes, I'd love to show you. Judith is out this evening in Monroe, shopping, I presume."

Excellent. Judith would just be a nuisance. "Shall we?"

As usual, Viviane buckled up. Only this time, instead of Eric's incredulous glare, she was met with praise.

"Viviane, it most unusual for a fellow vampire to value safety in motor vehicles. It is the law for a reason." He looked so pleased after his little speech, like they were the oldest of friends.

"Actually, William, I just prefer not flying out of cars in accidents. It is unpleasant." Not that she'd ever be in a car wreck with him. He drove like the proverbial grandmother.

Viviane nodded pleasantly as Bill pointed out this or that thing he'd done to the home. It looked its age. Pathetic. She had a taste for restoration and history, but she'd never live in it will it was being done. For all she knew, he slept in the dirt beneath the floor of the old house.

Following him outside, she knew this was her moment. With her fae power, she shoved him against the decrepit structure in her unique hands-off approach. She smelled his fear.

"What are you doing to me?" Bill struggled to get down as she pushed him higher against the wall.

"No use struggling, Billy boy. I could rend you limbless without touching you."

"How?"

"Once a fairy, always a fairy." She giggled.

Bill stopped wiggling, obviously looking for a different way out. But there wasn't one, not with her and not with this power.

"Why are you doing this? What do you plan?"

"I think I should kill you for what you caused, for the friend you took from me."


	6. Back In Black

**A/N: Well, I'm starting to be back. I finished my 50,000 words four days early. I'm trying to write another 5,000 by Tuesday to say I did it. I have about half of the main story's next chapter done, but don't expect it for a few more days. I actually really missed these characters quite a bit, although I had fun thinking up inventive ways to kill humans by a human. So here is the return of Viviane and her brand of vampire.**

Eric's return heralded the end of her musings.

He frowned. He knew she was processing something unpleasant.

"What moves through your thoughts, Viv?" He slid back into the chair.

Avoidance, yes, that's way. "What did Fifi want?"

He wrinkled a brow at her nickname and tactic. "Have you used that moniker to his face?"

She perked up at that. "I do. And he says nothing. He often laughs and then spends money on whatever I'm asking for." Viviane sucked the expensive blood blend through the little black straw. "He treats me like the little woman and pretty much lets me be."

"Now I know he is an idiot. He wished to ensure his 'talent' arrived uneventfully. He has the impression you have sworn fealty. What have I missed?"

"Nothing. I'd only swear it to one vampire. And he refuses to push the issue, so I let him buy me drinks and show me a good time." She clinked her glass against his and winked.

"Viv, we are not …" She cut him off.

"I am a woman, and I do not require sex to have a good time. Not that I would have you. I have a boyfriend." She feigned offense before giggling. She felt his irritation. "Wishing you'd told Pam no yet?"

"Yes."

"Drink your dinner, sourpuss." She sipped her blood wishing it were Charlie's.

He ripped the glass off the table and downed the rest of it.

"I suppose I shall meet with William Compton for his database. Control any rumors running around in it." She did not look forward to faking pleasantries with him. She knew all about what he did.

Thalia filled her in on all the gossip a few months ago when she made an appearance on Eric's behalf in Las Vegas. One wouldn't take the usually surly and combative Thalia for the type, but Viviane had a way of opening people up. Viviane may be the only person Thalia has ever gossiped with, unless Pam was able to get to her, too. Pam seemed like she'd be a gossip about some things.

When Viviane discovered the truth of William Compton's betrayal of Sookie, she nearly destroyed the entire rigging apparatus for her show the minute she was alone. She'd restrained herself, but it had been very difficult. She only ruined one, but the stage had to be repaired where the lighting batten slammed into it. Everyone believed her when she said she didn't know how it happened. Viviane cried to Felipe that someone was trying to ruin her show before it could even begin. He sent the stage manager she couldn't stand to work in Arkansas for 10 years for his incompetence, and she hired someone who wasn't an asshole.

"Your entry was very vague, but he has not pushed this year's update, so that may have changed. It would be wise." He was glaring now. "You are hiding something."

"So are you." She didn't think he actually was until he blinked. If he wasn't hiding anything, he would have continued to stare her down until she broke. "So what else are we doing tonight? Can I get the full Shreveport tour or do you have work to do?" She finished her blood and he looked gleeful – well, almost.

"Both. We're going."

"Ugh, this again? Eric, how many times have I asked you to ask me if I'm ready to go?"

"Why should I?"

"Courtesy. And it's good practice for the missus." She smirked at him.

"How long are you going to milk that?" He stood looming over her petite frame as she remained seated.

"As long as you stay married to her. Or I die. Either one."

He groaned. She giggled and finally joined him on her feet. They were to the valet stand in a vampire flash, startling the teenager until his heart pattered irregularly.

The child finally got his act together and informed them it would be two minutes tops. And he sweated the whole time. It was unpleasant. Viviane was glad she didn't need to breathe. The boy needed to practice better hygiene if he were to keep working for vampires.

The Corvette came; Eric took a spin around it for damage before tipping each kid $20.

"Don't bother with the door. I'm a modern woman."

He snorted. "Yeah, and I'm the king of France."

"Not possible. They no longer have a monarchy." And she would know. Viviane had tasted at least 84 European kings and nearly as many queens or consorts.

Eric fixed her with his classic glare but opened her door anyway. She patted his arm and slid in.

He was quiet while he drove until he showed her this interest or that until he pulled into his garage.

"Eric, why am I staying with you?" she asked before he shut the car off.

"Because we have much to discuss." And with that, he exited the car.

"Did you tell Sookie?" Viviane slipped out of the low vehicle.

"Why would I need to ask permission for you to visit?" he asked angrily as pulled her bags from the trunk.

"Oh, I don't know. Because most human woman are upset when their boyfriends and husbands invite ex-girlfriends over to spend the night." Seriously, why doesn't he know these things?

"You are not an ex-girlfriend." He said the last bit as though he were too good to have one of those.

Viviane was glad he was in front of her as followed him in through the mud room and up to her guest room so she could hide the grin. Eric said nothing, but she could feel irritation and confusion in the bond.

She finally spoke. "It's not about permission; it's about sharing. Dear Abby says open communication is important for a healthy relationship."

Viviane forced her end of the bond to share nothing when he looked at her. She thought his eyes might bug out of his head. And she so felt his anger.

"Dear Abby? DEAR ABBY?" he yelled. "No." He ran his hands through his hair; they got stuck in the tie, so he ripped it out and more than a few hairs before throwing it across the room. "Do not speak those two words to me ever again, Viviane. I hear them enough from Pam; I will not hear them from you as well."

He sped from the room. Viviane smiled as she heard him banging around down the hall while she unpacked a few things. She felt a flutter of pleasure when she came across her new pajamas. She rarely wore them but figured she'd need them on her trip. They were black and slinky and felt divine when they caressed her bare skin. They also were stretchy so she could really maneuver in them without fear they'd rip during a roundhouse. She considered ordering more wearing them all the time when she slept.

Viviane washed her face in the black-tiled bathroom. It reminded her of the Grand Hyatt's bathrooms at the Dallas-Fort Worth airport. It was very nice. She expected nothing less from him.

Eric was heating a blood downstairs, so she joined him. He was no longer banging things, so she assumed he was calm.

She settled in the living room, waiting for him. He didn't disappoint; he appeared with two bloods. Eric handed one to her as he settled into the sofa next to her.

He'd gotten ready for bed, too. They matched. His black robe was open over his black silk pajama bottoms, exposing his chest. It was a nice chest, but it no longer made her want to run her hands over it and coax him into her bed.

They had not had sex since that night nearly 200 years ago. They fought over her lifestyle – he feared her performances could expose them as something other; she said he just wanted someone to control. They were both right in their ways. However, he ended up with Pam and she ended up on the next boat to America after telling him, "We'll never nest again." And they'd never lived under the same roof again. They'd stayed over from time to time during the past century like she was doing tonight, but it was always smooth because one of them was leaving at a certain time.

"I did not tell her."

"I had no idea," she said before laughing. "Why not?"

"I have been busy. Victor is a pain, constantly checking on me, demanding reports, finding reasons to be in my area. He is up to something, I just haven't put my finger on it."

"And you are not concerned with Sookie's safety? I was with him for an hour three nights ago, and he mentioned the state's telepath three times." Viviane pushed his leg with her foot. "Who is with her tonight?"

"Bill." Eric looked disgusted. Viviane couldn't disagree. "Her cousin stays with her frequently."

"The fairy stripper fairy?"

He finally cracked a smile at her description. "The very one."

"What do you want to do?"

"Kill Victor."

"Given. Do you have a plan?"

"I must find a viable option. An accident."

"Or a takeover," she suggested, chugging the rest of her bottle.

"I'd rather not. I might not survive another one. And I do not wish to be king myself."

"Bullshit, Eric. Victor is a snake; even asinine Felipe recognizes your value and respect in the kingdom," she said, setting the bottle on the coffee table. "So will the next monarch."

"I am a threat."

"So am I, although they'd never know it." She smiled, thinking how they dismissed her so much. Everything she did was in direct line for future positioning, whatever she decided that was. "What about an assassin? Stan is very good and no one expects him to leave the palace, let alone the state." She pulled her knees under her and moved closer to him.

"He is not well."

She smiled, pushing his arm. "You see, that's where you are mistaken. He's been perfectly well for months. He has been in isolation to ferret out enemies and threats. I healed him six months ago."

Eric smiled, recognizing his strategic teachings passed on. "Viv, a king cannot show up, kill another monarch's second and expect things to go well," he said.

"But the entire world believes Stan is very unwell save Joseph, Isabel and me. No one has to know."

"Viv, Felipe would assume I did it or had it done. It won't work."

"Fine. We'll think of something." Her brain churned in the back while she focused on the now.

"Viv, I can deal with this."

"Ah, but you've got an inside girl for free. Let me help you, Eric. What did you always tell me?" She moved until her knees butted against his thigh and looked up at him.

"The only vampire you can trust is the one you made."

"See? Now you have to trust me," she said snaking her arms around his neck and hugging him. "Let us talk about something else, something happier. Let's start with Sookie."

"I have to protect –" he began.

Viviane put a finger to his lip. "Stop thinking about it so hard. You'll never come to a valid conclusion if you don't give it a rest for an hour here or there." She leaned back so she could look at him while she pried. "Now tell me about the mostly human woman who has you so enraptured along with half the supes in America."

For the next hour, Viviane got the scoop on everything Sookie Stackhouse that he hadn't already told her. Some of it was redundant from her other sources, but it didn't matter. Adele would've been proud that others saw her granddaughter for the kind and loving person she raised her to be, although those qualities sometimes landed her in the lap of mortal danger.

Viviane decided then and there she had to do something about Victor herself. She had more on-hand resources in more places than her maker and plenty of help to lure the snake to his death and leave Eric out of it for the most part.

When the conversation turned to Pam, she laughed as she heard about her antics.

"Eric, you do realize she sounds spoiled rotten."

"She is. I did it. I must live with it."

Viviane smiled at that. "At least she takes orders."

"You saw her. It's not without snark and complaint." His gaze bore down on her. "At least you were mostly respectful at her age."

"Do unto progeny, they say. We've been nearly equal my entire existence and you've never forced dominance."

Viviane's phone rang. She grabbed it from her pocket. It was Idris.

Viviane encountered Idris in England as she left for America. He was scrawny and hadn't eaten well in years, but he had the spark of a true soul. She needed a day man to protect her during her journey, so she hired him. Of course, she'd had to glamour him at first, but he soon proved his value.

Once he'd had time to eat, he formed into a very handsome man. When he turned 30, he'd been with her five years as she established herself in America quietly. He asked whether she'd consider turning him. A few weeks later, she had her youngest, who was about Pam's age.

"Hello my youngest."

"Mistress, I have good and bad news."

She looked to Eric.

He stood. "I'll be in my office. It will be private for you."

When he closed the door, she told Idris to get on with it.

"Negotiations are well with Samantha." Samantha ruled Northern California while Idris ruled SoCal. Benny ruled the third portion, but no one really wanted the vast swathes of Death Valley and farm land on the state's eastern edge. A marriage between northern and southern California would be prosperous and bode well for other alliances. It also would solidify the young king's position.

"Good. And the rapper?" She never said Tupac's name aloud. In fact, as a joke, Tupac allowed her to call him Paco.

"He is progressing well. At such a young age, he has great control." Idris turned the rap star after he was shot in Las Vegas. Viviane helped fake the body and now she hoped to put him in the spotlight again. "I think he will be ready soon."

That's good. He would make an excellent distraction for some unknown Viviane would someday need to take.

"You mentioned bad."

"Victor approached Russell two weeks ago about helping him with a problem sheriff in Louisiana," Idris said.


	7. Specialized Advice

"Why didn't Bart call me?" Viviane was close to having to give Bart a command about this very topic. It wasn't the first time he'd neglected to call her about something of importance.

"He found out during the conjugal." Viviane and Idris called it that, although they both knew Russell and Bart married for more than an alliance. "He said you were in that lion's den and was unsure of your arrangements and location. But I know exactly where you are." Idris' British accent added disgust like no other accent could. Well, maybe the French.

"Yes, I am at Eric's. You need to get over that mishap. It was your fault he sliced off half your ear."

"I do not want to talk about that."

"Fine. What else?"

"That is all, Viviane."

"OK. I want to know anything else. Don't be like Bart. I will call Russell." And she would. Russell enjoyed her talents and was one of the only male vampires who had never hit on her. She was rather fond of his manners and harem – they certainly were nice to look at even though they weren't for her. She hung up with Idris and padded to Eric's office door.

He said to enter before she got there. Eric was listening to symphonies from the Baroque period from his computer.

"Oh, remember dancing in that tacky yellow hall?"

Eric took his hands off the keyboard and laughed. "You wore an equally hideous dress to compete with what you called your last opportunity for gaudiness in that decade."

She chuckled before she turned serious. "Victor put feelers into Mississippi about a problem sheriff," Viviane told him as she rounded his desk and moved his drink so she could sit on the corner next to him. "I plan to call Russell tomorrow."

Eric leaned back as far as he could without falling over and eyed her. "Why not now?"

"If that is your wish." He nodded, so she dialed. "Russell, darling, how are you?" She paused while he described his new pool boy. "Look, I'll cut to it so you can get back to him. I heard about Madden's problem sheriff." She rolled her eyes at Eric as she said it. He smirked at her.

"Bart is such a gossip." The king laughed.

"Oh, Bart didn't tell me, although he should have. What do you know of it?" Viviane pried as she crossed her legs at the knee.

"I'll remember not to tell Bart about your holiday gift."

"Oh, a gift." She gave Eric a meaningful look, reminding him he should be getting Pam one. "Exciting. Don't try to distract me."

"Oh, fine. He means Northman. It is such a shame he is a ladies' man. You are a very lucky woman."

Eric gave her look, wondering what she'd told Russell.

"Russell, that was a long time ago."

Ever since Russell figured out he'd met Eric when Sookie rescued that leech Bill Compton, he'd wanted to sleep with him. When he found out Viviane and Eric had been nestmates more than once, he'd been relentless about knowing more about the "big, sexy Viking."

Viviane had told Russell that Eric was a fan of women once, hoping he'd give it up, but Russell pried more, so she'd alluded to him that Eric was a more than satisfactory partner, but that was it – ladies do not discuss intimate details.

"Victor approached each of my sheriffs about aligning with him. My instructions were to meet and gather information, but nothing more and to not encourage him," Russell said, clearly irritated by this intrusion.

"You're going to tell me everything, right?"

"I'd rather discuss it in person. When do you leave Vegas next?"

"Actually, I'm in Shreveport to entertain at Miss Ravenscroft's birthday party."

"Are you with Northman now?" His voice dripped lust.

"Yes, and he's not wearing a shirt." Eric gave her a look that would have cowered anyone else. She just giggled. "I could run over Thursday night, perform Friday night at Josephine's and leave from there. I'll tell Felipe you called when you found out I'd be so close for an impromptu performance."

"Excellent, Viviane. You could bring Mr. Northman," he said with hope in his voice.

"Yes, because Victor wouldn't be suspicious at all about that." They both laughed.

"Too bad. It will be my loss." Eric rolled his eyes this time.

"I don't think you realize how surly he truly is." That earned her another glare. "I'll fly in and call you when I leave. Until then, darling." They said goodbye, and she tossed the phone into her robe's pocket.

"How is it that all men seem unable to tell you no except me?" Eric asked with a smirk.

"It's both sexes really. Picked up some charm from my maker, I think. And Eric, when was the last time you told me no?" She knew exactly when it was.

"About 200 years ago. I ended up with Pam; you ended up in America."

They smiled at each other, each remembering the horrible things they said and did.

"Yeah, Eric, let's not do that again," she said.

"I never liked fighting with you. If you'd just do what I said, we'd never fight. Pam isn't like that." He smirked, pushing her buttons.

"Yes, because you can order her to shut up," she answered laughing.

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I enjoy being her maker, and she is vibrant. I forget she is young sometimes – she is suited to our life. Yet she is inexperienced at times."

"She seems wise enough, Eric. She's an avid reader of the Abigail Van Buren advice column – surely that gives her a unique insight." She smirked at him, getting around his mandate.

"Who?"

"You told me not to say those two words to you again. You may not be able to command me, but I do have a degree of respect."

His face went deadly still. "I would make her stop reading it, but she gets such delight, perhaps more than shopping. And it is occasionally of use," he conceded, but then he looked directly into her eyes as she smiled. "Do not ever tell her this."

Viviane stood, shrugging. "I don't know, Eric, perhaps she would feel validated if she knew her hobby was useful for you. Perhaps she also could start reading Dear Margo. She is likely more your speed – she's got spunk where Abby is all politeness."

"There are more of these columns?" he asked, growling lightly. "Do not encourage her."

"Yes, there's Annie's Mailbox and more specialized advice columns such as Hints from Heloise and Dr. Donahue." She giggled with mirth as it struck her. "Eric, I have a perfect gift idea. I remember a the-name-that-shall-not-be-uttered game. You could give it to her, and order her never to play it around you."

"No. I'll find a way to punish you that will be worse than 1416." Eric was delighted with himself that time – he'd cut off all her hair while he convinced her it was just a little trim. She'd closed her eyes and relaxed, trusting him, not checking until he was done. It grew back in a week, but she'd had to wear an ugly head covering for her performance. But she'd probably deserved it after she shortened all his tunics to an indecent length for a man of his height. They were hideous and she wanted him to get new ones. She'd gotten her way, but she had bad hair for a few days.

"Come on, Eric, I'm not here to torment you with my antics. I have to make sure you stay on your toes somehow."

"No."

"Oh, it would be so funny. I can make John acquire it before the party. He needs something to do." She beamed at him. "Please. That way, you're giving her a gift, and you don't have to do any of the work."

"You'll make the tiger do it?" She nodded. "Fine. I wish to be angry with him when he can't deliver."

"Oh, he can." She flipped out her phone and hit the speed dial.

"Viviane, get tired of terrorizing someone else already?" John answered.

"No. I'll never tire of that. I have a task."

"Yes."

"I want a Dear Abby board game. I want it delivered to Fangtasia by 8 p.m. with appropriate wrapping materials."

"Can't you go to Walmart and get it?" he asked snidely.

"John Quinn, don't you get an attitude with me. It's vintage. You have to find it online or something. But I want it by 8. That gives you 14 hours. I know you can handle it." She started to hang up but thought of something else to add. "I know there is a book. I want it as well. But the game is non-negotiable. Goodbye." Click.

Eric chuckled at her. "What are you going to do if he can't get it?"

"Oh he'll get it. He like his claws too much. Just think of all the fun Pam and I will have with her new gifts." He frowned at her, so she decided to tell him of her experiments to distract him. "So I found a way to transfer blood bonds temporarily."


	8. But Wait, There's More

Eric's brows shot up, and he sat forward. "What? How? Why?"

"Don't forget who, when and where." She grinned back at him. "As for what and how, a little fairy blood, a vampire not of the bloodline in question and a bit of magic. The one who needs to break the bond drinks and then both new parties exchange and poof! New blood bond amongst our kind. It's temporary – renewing the bond between the original pair ends it."

"Have you done it? Where did you get fairy blood?"

She nodded. "Niall left me a sizable donation for the experiment. He didn't say, but I know he hoped it would kill a blood bond between a certain little blonde and her Viking. Apparently he offered to kill you for her, but she wouldn't allow it." Viviane patted Eric's shoulder. "So you aren't the only blood-thirsty man she talked out of murder."

"Would you have let him?"

Viviane wrinkled her eyes in way that told him, "Not in a million years."

"I would have ended him if he'd remained set on it." And she still would if it came to it – him being shut up in Faery or not. Night falls everywhere eventually. "I have some loyalties to the prince, but when it comes to keeping a man alive at all costs, my loyalty will always be to you. As for why, I have eight progeny and a network of theirs – it makes sense to know whether something like this is possible."

Eric sat back with a look of irritation. "Is this you asked if I just might be able to come to Dallas a few months ago? You weren't actually injured?"

"It would have been an injury to not have you in my head," Viviane pouted.

"And just what did you do because I couldn't?"

"Had someone else do it. And final death returns the bond to its original state." They'd had to stake the other vampire when she'd made Idris' tech guy Shawn do it because they couldn't find the other vampire's maker. His maker had met the final death shortly after, so it was nearly pointless.

"So you killed the vampire and paid the fine?" Eric was disbelieving the lengths she'd go to – she felt it in their bond.

"The vampire I used was condemned. There was no fine."

"I spent time worrying about you that I could have been spending with Sookie because of some damned experiment? I can't believe your sneakiness sometimes." He scrubbed his hands over his face.

"Eric, I was a fairy first. I'm double-devious." She pushed his hand off his face. "And it's not like I didn't learn half of it somewhere, Eric Northman. Pam could be worse."

"Someday she will be just as devious as you are and three times as spoiled. Joy."

"No one is as devious as me."

"So did you have a human to try on? Charlie?"

"Eric, I doubt I would bond with him. Perhaps I do not love him enough. But he is normal, so he escapes the dangerous intrigues in which your wife is always involved, making it unnecessary. It should work." She examined the picture he had of Sookie on his desk. The young woman smiled up from the porch swing Adele was so fond of sitting on and wore a pale blue tank top to show off her tan.

"Then how are you sure it would work?"

"No. It should work. If you needed it…" she said trailing off.

"Because Sookie would tie herself to another vampire. She barely tolerates the bond we have," he said, taking the frame and sitting it back next to his monitor.

"Perhaps there is one she would trust, in an emergency?" she asked.

"She trusts Pam. And Bill," he said with disgust.

"I do not really care for the weakling myself. Why haven't you ended him?" Viviane planned to do so at an opportune moment. "It's the girl, isn't it?"

"Sookie would not forgive me. She is more important than some gnat. And Bill's technical skills are currently superior to mine. It is useful." He sat forward and gazed intently at her. "I do not wish to discuss this with her lest she decide to break with me impulsively. She is mine." A small growl escaped his lips.

"I don't want her; I just don't want to experience torture secondhand again if there is a way to stop it." The moments of Sookie's torture and Eric's subsequent imprisonment forced her to stay in; she could function but not perform. "I had to make excuses for days to Felipe about why I could not see him lest he make some sort of connection. It was a dangerous time."

"So this is about you?"

"No. It is about us – all of us. And wouldn't you want Sookie to find some relief if it were the other way around?"

"This is something I need to think about – for awhile. We will discuss it again."

"It is what it is, Eric. A tool, a possibility, something for our bag of tricks."

"Our bag?"

She nodded. "You know I share everything with you."

"How are your lightning fingers?"

Her lips flattened and her eyes darkened as Viviane mustered currents through her arms until a burst of power slipped from her hand and rolled Eric's office chair into the wall with the large Viking still sitting in it.

Eric chuckled. "Why is it that we rarely use it?"

"Because I have to kill everyone after they find out about it," she said with a pout. "And I'm really over that slaughter and annihilation bit."

She stood and walked to the office door. It was nearly dawn. "Oh and while I'm thinking of it, Abigail has a twin who also writes advice columns – Ann Landers." She sped away to her room, her deep laugh echoing through his normally quiet home.


	9. Dressing Room

Viviane woke up the next night to tears on her face. She'd dreamt of Adele. Dreams were scant for vampires, so this was unusual.

Adele told her in the dream to be mindful of Sookie's gift. She filed that for future contemplation. She had a show to prepare for, and a set list to write.

Viviane remained on the pillows despite needing to shower and prepare for the party. The sun had yet to set. Eric awoke moments after she did. She tried hiding the regret she felt over Adele's murder. Her phone rang. Charlie.

"Hello."

"Morning, sleepy head." She laughed as she always did at his declaration. "Your show is tonight?"

"Yes. I just woke." She rubbed the tears off as best she could and hoped she could get into the shower before Eric said good evening.

"So you need to get ready?"

"Yes. Eric may have work to do and want to arrive early." In truth, she wasn't in the mood to talk to him. "May I call you later?" He said yes as usual and they said their goodbyes.

She looked up to find Eric at her door. Viviane resigned and motioned him inside as she sat up, tenting her knees. She rested her head on them as she waited for him to speak. He sat in front of her.

"Viv, what has you sad or remorseful? I can feel your upset." Eric reached across and grabbed her hand. "You cried. You can tell me. I have whined to you, as you called it once, enough about Sookie. Does Charlie upset you? I could kill him for you." The wicked twinkle brought a small giggle from her.

"I just have some regrets that popped up. That's all." She shrugged. She hadn't been keeping him out well enough. She hoped Eric would leave it. He didn't.

"What have I always told you?"

"Vampires don't have regrets; our life is too long; we can just do it again. Blah, blah, vampire shit, blah." She met his gaze. "But that's bullshit, Eric. I know it. You know it. Humans are fragile and die, and if you mess things up with them or for them, you can't try again next time – they are gone, finally gone."

Her maker stared at her silently – he always was the strong, silent type – while he mulled her statement. "What human has stirred this in you? Charles Devonshire?"

"No, everything is just fine with him. I had a friend, a great friend, perhaps the best since you. But she was murdered when I turned my back, and it is my greatest regret. I failed her and her family." All true. But it all still felt like a lie. She forced herself not to cry. Viviane forced herself to smile at him, although she knew he'd continue to pick at her.

"Viv, what is it truly?"

"Eric, stop it. I do not wish to speak of it further. I must shower. When are we leaving?" She pulled out of his grasp and flashed to the bathroom door.

He walked slowly toward her, looming over her square of carpet. "You should tell me."

"I will not discuss it." Tears threatened at the corner of her lashes.

Eric pulled her into an embrace. "You've always been a crier, feeling more than you should. You will tell me when you are ready. An hour." He kissed the top of her head and left. She'd never be ready to tell him she'd lied to him.

She was out of her pajamas and sobbing on the floor of the shower in seconds. She just let it all out. Being in Louisiana was harder than she anticipated. Viviane stood to let the water wash her clean of tears and apprehension. Tonight, she would meet Sookie as a grownup and really meet Pam, her sister in this life even if she didn't know it.

Viviane hated blow drying her hair because it took so long. She nearly longed for the days when she could braid it wet. The curling iron put bounce into the curls. When she was satisfied, she added a first layer of makeup. She'd add more when she changed for the show, but she preferred less goop on her face.

She slipped into a black jersey dress with a boat neck collar and red patent leather stilettos. The set list was a formality; she'd decided most of it on the ride from Victor's club to the airport last night, so she tucked into the lucky spot. She grabbed her bags and headed for the kitchen to prepare her throat concoction. The cabinets held not one pan.

"What are you looking for, Viv?" Eric leaned against his kitchen island.

"A pan. How do you expect Sookie to eat if you don't have anything for her to cook in?"

He flashed out to the garage and returned with box containing a cookware set. "I thought of this already. I was waiting to give them to her."

She rolled her eyes and march over to the box. "You should never give a woman kitchen appliances or cookware unless she expressly wishes you to give them to her. Just put them away as a surprise when she opens the cabinets. Plus I need one right now." She tried to open the box.

He pulled away from her. "Why?"

"I need to make my throat relaxer." She gestured to the lemon juice, whisky and organic honey sitting on the counter. She liked the taste and scent of lemon now that it couldn't kill her.

"Fine." He set the box down and allowed her to find a suitable pan.

She rinsed it, poured her ingredients in and set it to boil. Viviane unpacked the other pans and set to washing them quickly.

"What are you doing now?" He watched her like an experiment.

"Eric," she said as though he were child, "you can't put them away without washing them." She sat dish towels across the counter to put the pans out on. She'd put them away when they returned later.

"Fine."

"I bet you don't pick up your wet towels either." Her drink boiled, so she grabbed her Thermos and filled it with the bubbling liquid. She rinsed the pan, sealed her drink up and grabbed her bags. "I'm ready."

Eric took her bags and motioned for her to go ahead.

The ride to Fangtasia was quiet. It was just as well. She had nothing she wanted to say, and his emotions registered a bit of nerves. The pair entered through back at 7:30. John was waiting at the bar.

"John, do you get to keep your claws?" This was a threat she gave him with a smile. She didn't really want to do it, and he had never failed her, so it had become a joke. Although she had the mettle to do it if it came down to it.

"Yes." He held the unsealed package for her and Eric to look at while she nodded and Eric did nothing. When he was finished, he taped the ends up and stood. "Anything else, Viviane?"

"No. Go have fun at the lake." John left as Viviane handed the packages to Eric. "Better scent these up so she doesn't wrinkle her delicate nose." They laughed as they went back toward his office.

Her band checked equipment and tuned up as Stefan stopped them.

"Viviane, the band asked about a set list."

"Oh yes." She hiked the hem of her dress a few inches and pulled the set list from her garter; she'd kept set lists there for centuries. It was her "break a leg" ritual. Eric was the only one who ignored the action. She unfolded it and pointed to one song. "This is the warm-up for them. They can go anytime with it."

The younger vampire's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"I'm always sure about this. Come on, Stefan, it will be funny, no?"

He shook his head and made his way to the band. As soon as Eric hit his chair, the reggae beat of "I Shot The Sheriff" pounded through the club. The glare was priceless. Viviane turned her back on him with a smile as she pulled three dresses from her trunk and hung them on his metal shelves.

She stared at them. The gold hugged her frame but was too long for this set. The green shimmered delicately, but Viviane wasn't feeling it. The purple fringed number would be it. Dress picked, she dumped her stage makeup across the edge of his desk. She set up her mirror and turned his desk lamp toward her face.

"You don't need the light."

"Neither do you." She glued false lashes on and coated it all with mascara. "How soon does she arrive?"

"Pam is close."

"Not her."

"I believe the invitations say 9. She is usually prompt." Pam burst into the office. Eric gave her a quelling look.

"I'm sorry, master." The young blonde wore the pink dress Viviane had sent has a gift. "I wanted to thank you for the party dress." She turned to Viviane. "It's from Andrew Winebarber."

Eric's eyebrow raised. "It is not from me."

"Thalia gave me your measurements. I couldn't believe that you hadn't been there. Happy birthday, Pam." Viviane applied a bit of bronzer to define her face shape.

"He's exclusive. And he's right here. I told Eric I wanted to go there, and he keeps putting me off about making me an appointment with Winebarber." She pouted.

Viviane smiled at Eric. "Now, you can drop my name and get right in."

"OK, out, Pam. Go greet your guests." Eric leaned back in his chair, asserting his dominance.

"Sookie will arrive with Judith and the nerd." She bowed and stepped out.

"The nerd?"

"Compton."

"Ah. I need you to get out."

"This is my office."

"And I'm about to take off all my clothes in it. As soon as you get out."

"I'll make sure Pam isn't terrorizing the staff with her perfection." He rose and as he passed her, he stopped and looked down at her. "I think your gift tops mine and you did it on purpose."

"I had no idea you'd been denying her something like Andrew Winebarber."

"I've been preoccupied."

"Tell me, does Sookie own a dress from Winebarber?"

"Not unless someone else gave her one."

She smiled. "That's not so bad then. Out." She pushed him and he went. She slipped out of the dress she wore and put on the purple dress. The lights always made these dresses pop even more, but one could never really sit in them. It was a halter and held everything in place as it was designed especially for her by her man in Las Vegas. Gary Going did most of her stage wear. Emerald green stilettos completed the clothing. Viviane dumped her box of costume jewelry next to her jewelry and started picking through it.

Eric came back without knocking. "I heard your zipper." He eyed his desk. "What is all this?"

"Jewelry. Fasten this." She held out a bracelet. He clasped it, but not around her wrist. "Try again, Eric." He fastened it around her wrist before he sunk into his sofa.

"Tell me about your show. Frankly, I hope I don't get to see it; I'd rather not be in Las Vegas."

"Understandable." She leaned against his desk and began to detail the dances and sets as she peppered in tidbits about Felipe's activities. She knew he'd mark them all down for use later. The entire time, she swallowed and swished the hot mixture across her vocal chords. It always relaxed the chill she naturally had out of them and was now part of her preshow ritual.

As it neared 9, Eric smiled to himself. At that moment, she knew Sookie was here. Viviane felt her faintly, like a tickle at the back of her mind.

"You should greet her."

"Pam has her in her clutches. It's her party; I'll let her have her for now."

A tap signaled Stefan's signal that everyone was here. She spit the of her concoction into the Thermos and stood.

"You ready?"

"Just need to finish my lips. I'll be right behind you." Viviane felt his mirth as she supposed he spoke to Sookie and smiled as she stepped into the hall. Stefan nodded to her. She nodded and the lights went down.

Eric's voice boomed across the bar as he introduced her and she became the dancing queen she'd spent 10 centuries perfecting.


	10. On The Issue Of Makers

**A/N: The muse need CPR. It's finally back, but more so for the Viviane side. I've been in her head a lot trying to figure out how she's going to tell Eric about knowing Adele over in the main story. It's not easy for her to rat on herself. Also this story's rating is going to have to go up based on some pretty difficult subject matter that's going to happen in the next chapter. Hope you enjoy some flashbacks. The next chapter is basically only that. I'll probably post it later this week.**

* * *

As Viviane sang, she watched him with his women. Sookie had a beautiful softness about her. Pam was, well, an English rose, she supposed. Each women watched and enjoyed everything Viviane had to give with her performance.

Eric enjoyed it, too. She felt his joy and, dare she say, pride. Viviane could only hope a bit was for her. He was her maker, her friend, her family - the one man she desired to please above all others. Viviane hated that their lives had to be so separate. She'd longed to be in his company more often and hoped the revelation would have enabled that.

But her fucking monarch just had to go and screw with that. Admittedly, she was glad she no longer had to see the snake Victor Madden on a regular basis, but it was worse knowing how much he hated Eric. Viviane had to do something and soon. She had a promise to keep.

Viviane finished her set with a special happy birthday just for Pam. Eric shot daggers at her as she kissed Pam's hand and winked. She'd never touch Pam because it would drive Eric nuts. With what she knew of Pam so far, Viviane would get on famously with her, and that would the ultimate amusement for her and annoyance for him.

The applause came as it always did. But this night was different – Eric was there once again. She focused on him as the lights went out, then she zoomed back to his office.

As she reached around to unzip, she realized why she hadn't worn this dress in performance for years. The fringe easily tangled, effectively trapping her in the dress unless she wanted to rip it. She pushed need at Eric to see whether he'd come. He did.

"You were wonderful," he said as he closed the door.

Viviane smiled up at him before she turned her back to him. "Help." She felt his presence behind her and his confusion. "The fringe – it's tangled, and I don't want to rip it."

He put an arm around her waist and pulled her back against him. "I meant it – I might be a little biased, but a finer performer had never existed." She allowed herself to rest against him. "I'm proud of what you are, what you have made for yourself, that I know you." He smoothed her hair and kissed the top of her head before stepping back and setting to work. A moment of exquisite silence later, he laughed.

"What?"

"Why do you wear this if you can't get out of it?"

Viviane felt his tugging against the strands. "Because it's pretty. And I forgot it did this. I have a lot of dresses."

That got a roar of laughter. "Of that, I am certain. You know, I do have scissors in the desk."

She smacked his arm and giggled. "No, this was designed just for me. I just need to remind myself not to dance too much in it."

Seconds later, she felt the zipper slide down and then he was in front of her on his way out the door. "I am going to scoot this time without you becoming hostile."

She tossed her shoe at him, but he caught it and tossed it back at her before he slipped out. She shucked the purple garb, grabbed her dress from earlier and slipped it over her head. Its back was lattice work, so she had to wiggle a bit for it to lay properly. Now she just needed a zip.

"Done."

Eric came back in without shutting the door completely.

"Zip?" She also stuck her necklace up for him to fasten. It was all so routine with him. They'd done this hundreds, if not thousands, of times.

"You can't fasten your necklace?"

"It might mess up my manicure." Viviane listened to a different tap of heels in the hallway – not Pam. She glimpsed Sookie peeking in as she passed, probably for the ladies' room.

"I already wrote a check." He stepped a bit back, aware that Sookie was nearby.

"For?" Viviane looked over her bangles, deciding which to wear. She put off the decision while she checked her lips.

"The performance. You do have a fee."

"One I am not taking from you."

"Is it not enough?"

"No, Eric. You listen to me, Eric Northman. I've made my mind up. Leave it." Anger threatened both of them when the slight tap came against the door.

Viviane flashed to Sookie in the doorway. She took her arms and kissed both cheeks while she greeted her. The exchange between Sookie and Eric was endearing. Viviane could see exactly why Eric liked her so much – she kept him on his toes and pushed back. Just like his progeny. She felt Eric's resolve burst when both of them smiled at him.

"He can be such a big baby when he doesn't get his way, no?" Viviane stepped into her heels and threw on a little more jewelry.

Sookie stifled a smile giggle before asking how long the ancient vampires had known each other.

"Oh, about nine centuries, give or take." _Give a lot. _Then the curvy blonde asked her age, covering her mouth as if it were a mistake. It would be for most, but Viviane would give Eric's wife some leeway. "About a thousand. It's hard to know exactly. I wasn't born in this realm."

She said nothing while she absorbed it, surely finding something inadequete about herself in the process. Eric mentioned her tendency toward that, so Viviane interrupted her by taking her out of the office.

Viviane forced herself to remain quiet when she heard Eric's command: You may not sleep with Viviane under any circumstance. Viviane wished she'd heard whatever lurid thing Pam expressed a desire for that had Eric so irritated.

Then she saw Bill Compton. Time for a little fun. Viviane wanted to kill him. She actually had a list of reasons to kill Bill in her phone. It was in Old Norse, so Eric would be the only one that could translate it, but he would find it amusing.

Viviane let go of Sookie and threw her arms around Bill's neck.

"William, darling. I know it's been a while and I shouldn't, but I really must congratulate you." She leaned back not letting go. Eric's amusement bubbled from where he stood.

"On what?" Bill looked very confused.

Oh, this was too much fun.

"On being makerless. Lorena really was a horrid, nasty bitch. I'm glad someone ended her and tossed her into the pool." She released him when she heard Sookie's heart rate skyrocket.

The little telepath had offed the bitch! And Eric didn't tell her. Too funny. She couldn't wait to laugh about this later.

"Viv, we know you aren't fond of makers …" Eric started.

Viviane cut him off. "I'm perfectly fond of mine. But Lorena was awful, no? You seem to be doing well with the birthday girl, Eric. I never advocate ending your beginnings, but Lorena deserved it. Especially with what she was doing." She made a sad puppy face at Bill.

If Bill could sweat, it would have dripped onto the floor. "How do you know about that?"

"Russell's boys can't keep their mouths shut. The boys are open books." Actually, Russell told her everything – he had he tapes. She hadn't seen them, but she wanted to see Sookie toss the bitch into the pool. "Really, you couldn't help it. No shame. We can't all be as lucky as I am. Though my maker would have never treated me in such a fashion –- not that vamp's style."

Eric's amusement increased. "Who is your sire?" Oh, yes, now he was playing along.

"Ha, Viking. Thought I'd slip, did ye? Hasn't worked yet and it's quite the talking point. Enough about me, let's talk about Pam." Viviane turned to the party girl and beckoned her to a booth.

Pam whispered in her ear. "That was almost as fantastic as the show."

"Thank you. I do believe you and I could have great shenanigans together."

Judith joined them as Pam talked about her hobbies and plans for the bar. Soon, Pam wanted to hear all about her long life, so she was forced to call Bill over.

When Eric brought Sookie to the booth, she told them why she'd waved them to the table. "They want to hear my story, but it's for William's project really." She pulled Bill into the booth. "No good telling it twice." She wanted to get the public story straight on her terms.

She joked with Eric while he disappeared for what he called paperwork. Hell, maybe it was.

Viviane told her story – well the public consumption one. Bill typed it into his iPad. She was glad he didn't have a laptop; just hearing his fingers touch the screen annoyed her. But this was for the best. She breezed through it and told them how she met Eric and was turned without mentioning real details.

The real story of her first 25 years with Eric was something she locked away. It was a time before the world and their existences shaped them into the beings they were 1,000 years later. Her maker and her spoke of it rarely anymore.

It all started in Athens on the waterfront. They'd met, talked, laughed. The attraction was evident, but she knew she would be putting her life in his hands if she went through with it. Viviane took Eric to her bed for several reasons, including her rebelliousness, the sense of danger he brought and his good looks, but mostly because she genuinely liked him for who he was and still is. Eric had been her first; sure, she'd kissed a few men here or there, but as a princess, she was expected to remain pure for her wedding night. Part of her plan was to do everything she could to taint herself so she could be free. Sleeping with the enemy certainly counted.

Eric was that bad boy women are eternally attracted to, but he possesses a strong sense of duty and honor. And he was dangerous for her. Despite his seeming thirst control, they'd settled into a routine to avoid an accident. She rose in the afternoon and left whether to town for food or just chores of some sort. Viviane spent many sunny afternoons happily mending and laundering clothes. It felt so normal; she enjoyed doing a little work. Viviane was never inside as he rose; Eric left immediately to feed. Then he return and they would talk or engage in pleasurable activities until dawn.

When she went to town, she never walked from the house. She always teleported so the scent couldn't be tracked back to Eric's resting place. Her last afternoon she spent walking from wagon to wagon at a gypsy camp. As she left, her brother, Virul, stood glowering at her. She remembered each word he spoke to her after he'd dragged her into the cover of the trees.

"You are coming back," he said. "You brought shame on our house with your little stunt." Virul struck her face, knocking her to the ground.

"No. I won't. I am free – from them, from marriage, from you." Her blood boiled in rage.

Virul yanked her to her feet; that was the moment he caught a whiff of her. "A vampire? Do you have a death wish?"

"Death would be preferable to life as a brood mare."

He slapped her a few more times and called her a whore. "Who is he?"

"Who said it was a man?" She defied him as she gathered her wits so she could teleport.

"I can smell him all over you. I will stake him when I find him."

Eric. She couldn't let anything happen to him because of her – she loved him, and she would protect him.

"I am ruined – why would you even want me back? Or are you so desperate that any womb will do?" She got to her feet, grabbed her bags and prepared to go. She stopped and looked at her brother. They really favored each other, more so that their other siblings, all boys. "Would you really have me passed off as some bargaining chip only to be at war with the water fae in another 50 years? Would you be able to kill me for something I never chose for myself?"

Virul stepped closer to her. She steeled herself for his strike, but it never came. Instead, she felt his hand caress her cheek where he hit it. "Viviane," he said. She looked up to meet his gray eyes. They were like a mirror. "You can't come back, not ever. You have to be dead to me. If you try, I will have to kill you surely." Her brother pulled her to him and ran his hand soothingly over her back. "I have missed you, little one. Your songs filling the palace. Your laughter. Your light." Virul pulled back and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I am sorry that we are ending on this note, but I have responsibilities to my people." They weren't hers anymore.

"I know. And don't call me a whore ever again. Don't threaten my lover. Don't threaten me. I will stay away. But you must do the same." She pulled out of his embrace. "Don't look for me again."

"What would you have me tell them when I return without you?"

"That I died, that I killed myself to get away from you." Her rushed words would become prophecy at her lover's hands in minutes, but she didn't know that. She hadn't noticed the sun dropping beyond the horizon when she told her brother goodbye for the last time as a fairy.

Viviane popped into the tree line behind the house she and Eric had been living in and started sobbing the minute she arrived. She ran for the house, not once considering that Eric hadn't left. It was a mistake she didn't know she'd made until after Eric had kissed away her tears and began rubbing himself all over her. The minute his fangs slid into her neck, she realized she was in trouble.

The struggle and pleas to stop were useless, so Viviane gave into the floating sensation that massive blood loss induces. She pulled him to her and whispered into his ear. When she could no longer hold onto him, her arms dropped. That was when he pulled back, a wild look in his eye. He panicked and spoke in his native tongue as he leaned her against the wall. Everything seemed to dim in slow motion as he brought his bleeding wrist to her mouth and fed her his blood. Everything went dark, and she'd woken up a few nights later in a dirt grave with Eric curled behind her.

Viviane felt his relief when she moved; in fact, she could feel him in her head. He'd covered their heads with a cloth, so she could speak to him.

"All right, start digging me out of here, Viking. I'm hungry." He squeezed her where he'd held her around the middle, kissing the back of her neck in relief, before he dug upward and pulled her out.

Being a vampire didn't feel so much different from being a fairy – her senses were slightly more heightened and she was cool to the touch, but she still felt her fae magic humming within her body. Viviane would try that out later. She remained powerful, she was just a little more lethal and invincible now.

She shook the dirt off and headed for the house, a house she could apparently no longer enter.

Eric's arms were around her, consoling her. "A human owns the house. You cannot enter until one invites you. We will be going to ground until we find a new place." He let go and went in, returning with a fresh clothes for each of them.

The nights passed with Eric teaching her everything his maker had taught him and making sure she could fight without her powers, which were mostly gone. She could teleport a tiny bit and zap a few things with her hands, but it took a lot out of her. They also discovered to her delight and his irritation that he couldn't command her to do anything. No maker's hold existed.

It was a happy time. Not much had changed for them, except now they ate together and pursued adventures.

Once Eric got over not being able to command her, it was good until the night Appius called for Eric.


	11. The Intruder

**A/N: All right, this chapter is the reason the rating went up. We all know about how Eric's maker treated him; it's another to witness it. So fair warning about some nonconsensual although not graphic actions in this chapter. But where angst exists, so does a ray of hope and determination. We know Viviane and Eric are tough cookies, but they had to get there somehow.**

* * *

Viviane sat in the booth and told the sanitized version of her life. And three vampires and one human ate it up. She heard Thalia snicker from behind the bar. Viviane would leave her out of it – for now.

Sookie burst into giggles when Viviane discussed not having a maker's hold.

"What is so funny, Sookie?" Viviane tilted her head indulgently.

"I imagined Pam being able to ignore Eric and how mad he would be." The young woman produced more giggles.

"Eric would stake me if I didn't heel." Pam's morose demeanor showed Viviane her serious side and her devotion to Eric.

Viviane laughed. "I doubt that." She was living proof Eric wouldn't. He might have wanted to and seriously thought about it 500 times, but she was confident he would never actually do it.

Sookie took deep breaths and tried to still herself after her fit. "Sorry, Viviane, I want to hear the rest."

Viviane continued by spinning a simple and lighthearted story of how she left her maker. In reality, it was a dark and painful, and she didn't like thinking about it. But being so near Eric and talking about her past forced its festering head to the surface.

During her first 15 years as a vampire, she'd risen in his arms every night without exception. The first night of the end, she rose alone. Eric was in another room, worried and upset. – both unusual emotions for him. Viviane left him alone; if he wanted her to know just yet, he'd be there with her. She got up and dressed for the evening.

When she went to find him, she found him pacing. He never paced in the 25 years they'd been together. Vampires don't pace.

"What is going on?" She'd tried soothing him. She'd even taken her clothes off to see whether that would work.

He rubbed his hands through his hair. "My maker is calling me. I have to go."

"OK, so we'll go. How soon? Tonight?" She started thinking about what to pack.

"No."

She turned to him. "What? You aren't going? I thought I was an exception to the rule."

"You are; stop reminding me. You are not going."

"You would leave me?" Like hell she was going to let that happen based on his reaction.

Eric pulled her into his arms. "He is not a nice vampire. I'd rather keep you from him."

Viviane wrapped her arms around him. "All the more reason to go. Two against one."

"He is more than 1,000 years old."

"So? He won't know I am yours. The Paris nest had no idea we were more than companions. Neither did the Greek – Thalia. I won't let you go alone. I will always be at your side." She kissed him and felt him relent.

"Fine, but if I tell you to leave, you must promise me you will." Viviane felt his worry and apprehension, so she readily agreed, not thinking about why he was so nervous.

Eric never spoke of his maker and changed the subject when she'd tried to ask about it. Viviane brushed it off as she packed her things. They set off from the Italian village they'd been staying in and headed for Naples.

When they rose on the second night, Eric told her they were close. She laughed and teased while they bathed in the river. Then he took her, marveling over every inch of her body as though it would be the last time he'd see it. Those moments would be the last carefree ones the pair would ever have together.

She held him afterward, not saying anything, just brushing the hair back from his face while he thought. Finally he spoke.

"Just promise you will leave if I tell you to go."

She sat up and looked down at him where he lay. "How bad is he? Does he mistreat you?"

He looked away. "I cannot say."

"Cannot? As in commanded not to say?" He nodded. "Eric, I have a great love for you, don't ever forget that. I am always and forever with you." She took time comforting him with her body before he said they must go.

Eric could feel the pull in the direction of his maker, all the way to a villa on the outskirts of town. They arrived halfway into the night.

A human led them into an open room with a large fireplace. She stood dutifully at Eric's left and just a step behind him.

"Ah, child, did you bring a friend?" The Roman stood and wandered closer.

"Yes, master. This is Viviane." Viviane bowed to the ancient vampire.

The Roman got right close to her and sniffed. "Did you eat a fairy, dear?"

She shook her head. "I was a fairy before I was turned."

"Who is your maker?" Appius lifted her hair, running his fingers over her pointless ears. She'd held firm, not shivering away from his touch.

"I rose alone. I do not know." That was their story, and they were sticking to it.

"And how then did my child come upon you?" The Roman cupped her chin and examined her closely.

"I wandered, going on instinct for some nights, seeking another of my new kind. I met Eric by a lake. He agreed to help me, teach me what he knew. We have been together since." Viviane relaxed as the Roman returned to his seat.

"Have you fed, dear?" Yuck, she hoped he never called her that again. She was not his "dear."

"A bit, but not enough." She'd shared a nightwatchman with Eric to top the thirst off, but she needed much more.

The human reappeared. "Show the lady the way to town and wait while she dines." The vampire turned to her. "You are welcome here for now. My child and I have catching up to do, don't we, Eric?"

"Yes, master." She turned to see his head hanging in a sorrowful way and had wanted to caress his cheek with her fingers.

Instead, Viviane nodded, offered her thanks and followed the thin Italian into the village where she fed. Not long after she left, she felt Eric push their bond closed. As she walked slowly with the young man, she wondered what Appius and Eric were up to right then. The man opened the door for her, so she started back to the common room when he stopped her.

"Master says he is not be disturbed tonight. You cannot enter."

"Why not?"

"I just do as the master says. Please follow me." He led her to the day chamber. It was large and had several pallets around. She felt the pull of the sun; dawn would arrive within the hour.

She sat on the one the man pointed at after he returned upstairs. She settled back to listen – what she heard shocked her.

She heard Appius saying crude things and hitting someone. She also heard the distinct grunts and slapping of flesh that came from sex.

Eric. She covered her mouth to stifle any sounds. That's why he didn't want her to come here – his master abused him. She made herself not cry; she could do nothing to stop it. Viviane forced herself to get it together for Eric. He would not want her pity or for her to even know. She could play along for him until they could make a plan.

The two men came down a while later. She flashed her eyes to Eric and smiled as though she knew nothing.

"How was your meal? I trust the boy was no hindrance." Appius flopped onto a pallet two away from hers; it was the largest and most stuffed.

"He was very versed on the local drinking hall. It was very easy." Viviane kept her voice light and breezy.

Eric started to lay on the pallet between them, but his maker stopped him. "You will sleep at my side from now on."

Eric gave her a pained look as he complied. He stretched out facing her and tried to give her a reassuring look. But nothing would reassure her then.

Viviane was good, very good – she didn't flinch or move when Appius ran his hands over Eric's body and kissed his neck. She bid them a good rest and turned onto her back and waited to be dead to the world.

The next nights passed much the same, except she sometimes hunted with them, luring unsuspecting men to their fangs. She often spent the nights away, admiring art and watching the ocean. Viviane hated herself more and more for hiding from what was going on.

After a few weeks, Appius decided Viviane and Eric needed to learn to fight with the spear. It was something he planned to train Eric in but said she might as well learn while she was there. She wished during every practice session that she could stab him through the heart. He described her as ferocious, a formidable young opponent after two months.

During these evenings, he sometimes made strange comments about her beauty but how he was not interested in women. Sometimes, Appius got too close to her or ran his fingers over her back in an overly familiar way. It made her uncomfortable, but she thought nothing of it. Appius focused his sexual attentions on Eric and the human men they fed from.

Her sexual attentions were lacking. Since they'd arrived, she'd only had Eric once when Appius was at some sort of meeting. She resorted to touching herself one night and a couple of humans she fed from on other nights. At first, she felt guilty about it, but Eric told her one night to not deny herself what she wanted. This was part of the vampire nature, that she should embrace it. The unspoken truth was that he could not as long as his maker demanded his attentions elsewhere.

Appius made her uncomfortable on a great many levels during the months she stayed with them. It became increasingly clear that he had no plans to release Eric again. This life of enduring Eric's nightmare wore on her, but she would not leave his side unless he asked it of her.

These plans abruptly changed one night when she woke to someone moving inside her. It wasn't Eric; he wasn't awake and the intruder was too small. She long had practiced not moving when she woke until she took in her surroundings for danger, so this night she remained still as though she'd not risen. Sooner or later, he'd finish and it would be over.

The painful bombardment continued as a cool hand groped a breast that had been exposed before she rose. It was only a moment after she woke that she felt Eric rise and his subsequent anger.

"Master, what are you doing?" Eric's movement near her pallet pushed air across her exposed lower half.

"Finding out what has you so enthralled. She is as tight as you." Appius rammed into her, but she remained unflinching. He sniffed her neck and licked it.

She felt the resolve roll through her maker before he spoke. "Wouldn't you rather have me, master?"

Viviane wanted to tell him to not do it, but she couldn't move or speak.

Appius stopped his movement as if he were considering it. He thrust once more before pulling away. "Women are just never good enough. Now turn around."

Viviane wanted nothing more than to run from the room instead of bearing witness to what Eric was enduring for her. Appius' movements and groaning increased and soon he called out. She heard him slump against Eric's body.

"All right, I am going out for a council meeting." She heard the Roman slam the door at the top of the steps.

Neither she nor Eric moved. She finally opened her eyes to see Eric sitting cross-legged with his back to her. She moved to sit up as he turned to face her. He came to her, pulling her skirt down and helping her right the top of her dress. Still they said nothing as she put her arms around him and buried her face in his neck.

She broke the silence with her request. "I want to go to the ocean. Take me." She felt him press a kiss into her hair before he pulled her to her feet. They were silent as she put her belongings into a bag. Both knew this was their last night together. He dropped all the coins he had into her bag.

They needed to feed, so they glamoured a couple of drunks outside a pub. They left them passed out in an alley. She would have to feed again that night.

Eric held her waist as they walked at a human pace to the water's edge, still not speaking.

She followed him to a secluded cove they'd ventured into a few weeks ago when Appius was away. She stripped her dress, dunking it into the waves over and over again to rid it of the Roman's scent before spreading it across a rock. She waded into the surf and Eric followed, having shucked his tunic. She swam to a rock that was submerged but not so deep that she couldn't sit on it. Eric joined her.

He spoke first. "Viv, I am ..."

She shushed him with fingers to his lips. "No, it is not your fault he is a monster. Some day, I will return the gift you gave me and give you the freedom to live your life without someone controlling you." She kissed him. "You made him stop, and for that I could never be thankful enough."

Eric pulled her to his side and nuzzled her hair. "You are mine; no other vampire should touch you. I should be able to protect you."

"Stop. Don't. Let's not end our time together this way." She straddled his lap and hugged him. Viviane leaned back and looked into his eyes. "Erase him." He knew what she wanted and took her slow as she rode him while the sea beat against their skin and the cliffs. She let the bloody tears she'd been holding in for months out. "I don't want to go, Eric. I want to stay with you. I don't think I'm ready."

He stilled within her and caressed her face, staring down at her. "It's necessary. You will be fine. Go to the Paris nest if you have to." He leaned down and kissed her. She resumed moving against him until they both crested on a wave of mutual pleasure. Viviane clung to him and sobbed.

"I hate this. I want to hate all of him, but I can't. I wouldn't have this life or you if he didn't exist."

Eric rubbed her back and let her cry, pressing his lips to her temple.

She looked up at him. "Maybe I should try to stay. Maybe it won't happen again."

"Viv, if you won't go on your own, I will ask you to leave." His sapphire eyes flashed with pain.

She nodded. They were silent for nearly an hour, just resting on the rock intertwined.

"I'll stay on the continent." She watched his face as he nodded. "I will always come if you call. You could find me again, right?" She ran a finger over his face, memorizing it.

"Yes, always." Eric slipped off the rock and began swimming them back to the cove. Once they could put their feet down, he pulled her to his lips. Then he broke away. "You should start out. As much as I want every final moment with you, I want you far away from here tonight. As far as you can run." She nodded and pressed herself to his lips once more.

Then she left the sea and dressed. Her garment had been damp still, but the running would finish drying it. She turned to see Eric still standing in the water, watching her. She called to him, and he brought his dripping wet form to her. She stepped onto the rock she'd used for her dress so she could be even with him for once. He laughed when she met his level.

"I need you to walk away first. You must. It will be easier for me to watch you go." She blinked the tears back before she hugged him again. "Please." It was a tear-laden whisper. He nodded and bent to grab his tunic and sandals. Viviane watched every muscle move as it disappeared under his clothes, wondering whether she'd see him again. Immortality was a long prospect, and it was one she hadn't thought about beyond Eric.

Viviane thought he might kiss her once more, but he didn't. Instead, he asked one thing of her.

"You are a survivor. Survive for me."

"Only if you do the same. I cannot continue this existence without you even if we are to be apart." She couldn't stop the tears.

"Stop. No more tears, Viv. No more. Now you are truly free to go where you want, do what you want, be who you want." He stepped toward her and wiped her face. "If you are happy, I will be able to feel it. Be happy for me until I return to your side. He will not keep me forever." He kissed her long and deep before he released her and walked away.

Viviane fell to her knees and sobbed. The only thing that made her clean her face and set out was the hope he'd given her. If she could find happiness, he'd know. She could do this for him, so that maybe he could endure his maker's torture.

Viviane set off for the north and made it to the outskirts of Rome, where she'd ran into Thalia again. It sparked a different kind of life.

The beep of her cellphone pulled her back to the present. Pam asked about knowing her maker, so she told them about the French court while she read the message.

It was from Victor Madden: "I found one of your purses. I am in Area 2 if you would like me to bring it to you."

Viviane's irritation spiked, and Eric soon appeared, leaning over her shoulder. She casually allowed him to see the screen while they bickered over his centuries of wearing tights.

Eric gave her a murderous look; she knew it wasn't actually for her – this time. "Are you done playing the Sister Grimm?" He wanted to take action and now.

"I suppose. Someone did die in my story – me. Though I wouldn't call it a tragic ending – I'm rather enjoying my name in lights." Viviane stood and began her goodbyes. While she exchanged numbers with Bill so she could meet him at Merlotte's the next night, Eric pulled Sookie into the hallway.

Viviane's original plans included spending time with Pam, perhaps even a platonic sleepover, but she overheard Eric tell Sookie about the sleeping arrangements. Viviane winced when she heard the young woman whine.

"Why can't she just get a hotel?" Sookie nearly stomped her foot. Viviane wondered how Eric put up with that behavior; perhaps it was a rare occurrence.

Viviane decided to not drag this out and trotted into the hallway. A little more fun wouldn't hurt anything; it might even prove her point from last night to Eric.

"Don't blame me, sweet cheeks. He asked me to stay with him."

She heard the young woman huff before Eric gave her some excuse about needing to discuss a lot with Viviane. It was all true; they had a lot before, and with Victor's text message and Viviane's stunt, the list grew.

Viviane kept walking and began to pick up her mess in Eric's office. She pulled a few things she wouldn't need for any of her other scheduled performances and set the bags on the couch. She walked back into the hall to find Eric working his brand of kissing magic. The way Sookie's heart beat told Viviane it was well on its way to working out for him.

Viviane leaned against the wall; Eric knew she was there and pulled away. Sookie frowned a little when she spotted the vampire audience. Time to push another button – he would lay into her anyway.

"Ready to go, lover boy?" Viviane giggled when Eric glowered down at her before he went to get Pam despite saying he would get Bill. Viviane watched the woman admire Eric's butt as he left. Viviane smiled – it always had been a nice one.

The vampire waited for Sookie to refocus before she inquired about her work schedule. "I would enjoy talking with you, oh pillager of his dead Viking heart."

Viviane's statement put Sookie off kilter, so she laughed. It put the woman at ease, but only a small bit. Viviane stepped closer and heard Sookie's heart rate skyrocket. "Stop being nervous. I am loyal." _If only she knew how much, _Viviane thought. Eric returned, so she tossed her bag to him and asked him to get the others. "Be chivalrous." Another button pushed. Then she walked out to wait at the car.

Soon enough, Eric appeared with her bags and gave her that look he always did right before he told her to shut up, so she said nothing. He actually looked a little surprised when she didn't say anything snarky.

Once they were both inside the car, she spoke. "Thanks for getting my bags. I have an image with Felipe." He nodded. "So this text message."

Eric frowned at her while she snapped her seat belt. "Pam was instructed to keep Sookie with her at all moments until dawn. They will go to Pam's home, which Pam will enjoy. Something about a slumber party." He shook his head when Viviane laughed. "I don't want him in my area. Call him for his location."

Viviane pushed the requisite buttons and waited for the Snake to answer.

"Ms. Riga, I thought you would get back to me sooner." Victor was as smarmy over the phone as he was in person. She couldn't wait to end him.

"I was entertaining. It is what I do. Where are you at? We wouldn't want to inconvenience you, so I can drop by and get it tonight." She wanted to inconvenience him into final death.

"Oh, I could just come to Shreveport."

"That won't be necessary. Eric doesn't mind bringing me."

"I am dealing with a matter in Mansfield."

Viviane looked to Eric. He mouthed, "Close."

"So Victor, where should we meet you?"

"The matter is at Creswell Cemetery."

"Excellent. We will see you there. Thank you for guarding my purse. I'd hate to lose that one. Coco Chanel gave it to me. Goodbye." She hung up before he could say anything else. "Yuck. What do you think he's up to?"

"No telling yet. But now he has no reason to show up in my territory."

They sat in silence, each piecing through the evening, as they sped to Mansfield.

"Viv, don't push more buttons with Sookie."

"I can't promise anything, but I will make an effort to not push them in relation to you." She tapped her fingers on the door handle. "And I won't promise to stop pushing your buttons. I haven't done it in a long time."

"Don't push them in front of Victor."

"Of course not." She grimaced. "Yuck, I am going to have to touch him."

"Why?"

"He always kisses my hand. I hate it, but he thinks it's only a matter of time before I sleep with him." Viviane shivered. "I'd be tempted if I thought I could get a stake in him in the process."

Eric roared with laughter. "I think you could get a stake in most men. They never see you coming." He turned sober. "Don't do anything just because you think it would help me with this situation."

"Eric, you know I'm on your side and I would do whatever it takes to aid you. And you're right – they never see me coming. Like that rat fink in Belgrade. You are the only one who sees me coming."

He laughed again. "What about Richard?"

Viviane turned violently in her seat to face him. "You promised you would never speak his name to me again."


End file.
